


Dusted with Dawn

by Arukou



Series: Tumblr Archive the Second [11]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff, Gratuitous Art Talk, M/M, Nudity, Suggestive Themes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-17
Updated: 2018-12-17
Packaged: 2019-09-20 18:09:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17027523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arukou/pseuds/Arukou
Summary: Steve watches the sunrise with Tony at his side.





	Dusted with Dawn

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted [here](http://arukou-arukou.tumblr.com/post/175693464846/i-hope-youre-feeling-okay-i-dunno-what-prompted).
> 
> This was in answer to the prompt: "For the prompt thing: I've always loved quiet, sleepy moments in my ships, particularly if it's early morning and one person is watching the sun rise and bathe their beloved in soft light. And it might be the prettiest sunrise in history, but it can't possibly be more lovely than a soft, sleeping, glowing dear, so why look away? This might not be the best prompt, sorry!"

The fuzzy edges of awareness told him that the sea was crashing nearby, that the birds were starting to waken, that in spite of the chill night, the dawn was approaching. Steve was normally one to wake quickly himself, a snap of the eyelids with rarely any morning-time lassitude. But they were on vacation. He had given himself permission to sleep in a bit, to be a bit lazier than his usual go-get-em style.

Tony was warm next to him, arm and leg thrown over him in a possessive clutch that sent a thrumming sense of belonging through Steve’s hindbrain. They should’ve put clothes on again after making love last night, what with the low night temperatures, but it had seemed unimportant in the afterglow, and given that they were sharing a sleeping bag, Steve couldn’t remember ever feeling terribly cold during the night.

Outside, the birds were becoming more insistent, and Steve leaned forward to unzip the front panel of the tent. He wanted to see it, the sun over the waters, the world painted in ocher and slate, just them on the edge of it all, so much smaller than everything that surrounded them. Sometimes, it was hard for him to feel small anymore; international notoriety, a massive body, being in the buzzing hive of New York, meant that he felt bloated there sometimes. He thought Tony maybe knew. He thought that was why Tony suggested camping in the remotest place they could find, cuddled together on an uninhabited spit of beach in the Shetland Isles, alone until the quinjet came for them in another five days. Camping wasn’t exactly Tony’s thing. The trip was for Steve and Steve loved it, loved Tony, loved that they could have this together.

The dawn peeked out over the edge of the horizon, and Steve rustled into his bag for his chalk pastels and a pad of newsprint. Beside him Tony huffed and shifted, curling more tightly into Steve’s hip, blindly groping at flesh while he hid his face.

“Ugh. ‘Time ‘s’it?”

“Dawn.”

“Tiiiime.”

“Just before four.”

“Ugh. Hate you. Ugh.”

Steve smiled into his pad of paper, sweeping his dark blue in fat, dusty streaks across the page. “You can go back to sleep if you want.”

“Cold.”

“You’re the one who suggested the Shetland Isles.”

“Don’t know what I was thinking. Stupid of me. Should’ve said Bermuda.”

“Bahama. Come on, pretty mama.”

Tony made another disgruntled noise and bit Steve’s hip, easing his teeth after a moment to suck more gently, not without effect. Last night, they’d simply rubbed against each other, not bothered with anything more elaborate. It was slow and sweet, halfway between waking and sleeping, and it was so rare that they had the time to appreciate each other that way that Steve had thoroughly enjoyed himself, even though the wash of orgasm had been more like rolling down a hill than cresting a wave. Now though, with Tony’s fingers dancing to all sorts of new places, with the energy of a fresh day beginning to fill the sky, he felt like he wanted something more fiery. But also like he wanted to save the build. Make Tony wait all that much longer.

He dropped his hand to Tony’s head momentarily, scratching his nails lightly against Tony’s scalp. “Patience. I’m working here.”

“We’re on vacation, Steven. You’re not suppose to be working at all.”

“How often am I going to get to see a sunrise over the Shetland Isles.”

“As often as you want.” Nonetheless, Tony subsided, nuzzling into Steve’s thigh and moving his wandering fingers to more neutral territory.

Steve flipped through page after page, laying down blocks of color without trying for any smaller detail. He was more interested in the way the dawning light painted the rock and sea, the way the colors shifted rapidly from dusky blue to golden yellow. Abruptly, a puffin hopped into view, peering curiously into their tent. Steve grinned and flipped to a new page, sketching their guest with gusto.

“They’re as bad as pigeons.”

“They’re adorable.”

“They’re edible, Steve. I want to eat one.”

“Well, if you’re willing to pluck all the feathers and spit roast him over the fire, you be my guest.”

Tony snickered into his skin and held him tighter, squeezing him a little. “I’ll stick to all our lovely rations.”

With a hum, Steve finished his drawing of the puffin and returned to the sea, flipping through another three pages in rapid succession before sighing and sitting back a little, looking at out the slowly brightening world. He glanced down and caught Tony looking up at him.

“What?”

A tiny, vulnerable smile grew on Tony’s face and he shook his head, though he didn’t look away. The golden glow through their tent walls painted Tony in tones of dandelion and day lily, making his brown eyes warm to toffee. The gray at his temples took on the gold more sharply than his darker hair, haloing him.

“You’re so beautiful,” Steve told Tony, cupping his jaw and swiping a thumb over his cheek. It left a streak of blue chalk in its wake, but somehow, that made Tony look ever more stunning.

“I was just thinking the same thing.”

“That you’re beautiful?”

“No, that _you_ are, silly. You should see yourself right now. You look…you look like a painting. Like something Michelangelo would cry over.”

Though he didn’t consider himself a vain creature, hearing those words from Tony’s lips still sent a curl of satisfaction through Steve’s stomach. “Should’ve been drawing you,” he murmured, pulling his hand away to study the way the blue and yellow chalk dust had streaked across Tony’s cheek and neck.

“You could do me one better,” Tony said, shifting his hand back to its previous, tantalizing position. Tempted, distracted, Steve slid back down into the sleeping bag, turning into Tony and hooking a possessive hand over the small of his back.

“What did you have in mind?”

“Make love to me?”

“What happened to ‘ugh, ah, four in the morning?’“

“You woke me up early. You owe me. And then we’re sleeping in.”

Steve hummed, pleased, and leaned in to kiss Tony again, to take in all of him dusted in morning gold, to take him apart inch by inch, and then to lay with him, sleep with him, love him.

**Author's Note:**

> You can maybe find me on [tumblr](http://arukou-arukou.tumblr.com/) if I haven't been purged.


End file.
